


Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

by GreenRogue



Series: In All their Angsty Hurt [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Goodbyes, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Character Death, monster hunt, solo hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 16:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenRogue/pseuds/GreenRogue
Summary: The first thing he notices is how cold he feels. Like ice has settled under his skin and fused itself to his core. He can feel the tremors in his bones and the way his teeth are threatening to knock together. His head is pounding now that consciousness is coming faster. His pulse keeping rhythm behind his eyes as his heart beats rapidly. It takes him a bit longer than he’d like to admit remembering how he got here.~Sam is on a Solo hunt that goes sideways, as is the Winchester way~





	Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural or the characters, I did borrow the monster from Buffy the Vampire slayer but there is no cross-over. Bonus points to anyone who knows what episode the creature is from ;)
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome!

The first thing he notices is how cold he feels. Like ice has settled under his skin and fused itself to his core. He can feel the tremors in his bones and the way his teeth are threatening to knock together. His eyes feel crusty as he attempts to open them, his vision blurry and it takes him a few tries to clear it before he can make out his surroundings. Snow is seeping in past the fallen rocks at the mouth of the cave, a gray light is filtering in from the small hole near the ceiling, faintly illuminating his current prison.

Sam groans before forcing his sore body to roll onto its back, his head is pounding now that consciousness is coming faster. His pulse keeping rhythm behind his eyes as his heart beats rapidly. It takes him a bit longer than he’d like to admit remembering how he got here.

_The snow was starting to pick up around him as he trudged forward on the game trail. He’d been hunting the Wendigo for days, trying to find its home while snow hikers were going missing. It was nearly morning and Sam was about to call it quits when he saw the rocky outcrops of a few caves up ahead. Shrugging his pack more firmly on his shoulder, Sam left the trail to investigate, grumpily complaining about his pants as he went._

_‘Next time I’m sending another hunter north, and I’ll take the ghost in the south—stupid snow--.’ Sam shook his head again, shaking loose the few flakes that were starting to stick to his hair. As he trudged forward, he idly ran his thumb across the grip of the flare in his hand. He never really liked hunting on his own and would have gladly waited for another hunter to join him, maybe he should have phoned Dean—Sam shook his head to disperse the wrenching thought. He and Dean hadn’t hunted together in months, why start back up now?_

_The closet cave was smaller than he originally thought, and Sam half crouched with a flashlight to peer inside. His little light didn’t do much to illuminate the surrounding darkness and Sam looked back behind him and at the surrounding landscape nervously. Tight spaces—tight, cold spaces—great. Setting his pack down, Sam readjusted his grip on the flare and crouched lower to clear the ceiling, his eyes squinting into the darkness. Sam licks his lips nervously as he inches forward, the sound of dripping water echoing around him not far off. He’s about half way in the cave and ready to give up when he hears a light scratching noise echo around him. He freezes instantly, shoulders tense and flare gun raised. Barely breathing he waits, again the scratching noise echoes around him louder this time and definitely closer. Sam sways the flashlight back and forth, trying to illuminate the source of the noise and push down his natural instincts to run. He refuses to turn his back, knowing the way he came was clear. Perhaps that was why he was startled so badly when a weasely voice whispered in his ear,_

_“Oh precious young thing, allllllll alone-“ Sam stumbles, rolling and scooting until he’s on his ass against a wall, flare and light pointed in the general direction of the voice. He can still feel the silky breath on his neck and he fights the urge to rub his skin on his shoulder. His heart is hammering in his chest, eyes wide in the semi darkness. A high pitched chittering, almost like a giggle, echoes in the cave around him and sets Sam’s teeth on edge. Something is in this cave with him, and he’s for fucks sake sure it’s not a Wendigo._

_Too anxious to lower his arms to reach his gun, Sam attempts to shimmy himself up against the wall until he’s at least semi standing again until he hears the faint scratching noise again along with that chittering laugh._

_“A sweet young lamb, all along in the blowing storm. Sweet young lamb with fressssssssh meat.” He hears what sounds like a tongue running over lips and grimaces internally as he side steps back towards the cave entrance, ‘Definitely should have gone down south.’_

_The scratching noise stops suddenly and Sam swallows heavily, waiting for a blow, a push, **something!** When the silence stretches around him, he feels his breath start to heave heavily and his rock solid grip on the flare starts to tremble slightly. This was a bad idea, he needed to get out of there immediately. Mentally preparing himself to run towards the entrance, Sam barely lifts his shoulders from the wall when a large shape crashes from beside him. Its slimy hands yanks his arms down and his flashlight and flare skitter across the rocky ground. He feels a sharp sting in the skin against his neck and abruptly he’s pushed onto his stomach. Sam scrambles to inch closer to the flare, his breath coming out in huffs while the thing behind him titters in an annoying voice._

_“Sssso sssstrong, sssso feissssty. Fresssshhh ssssweet meat, allll alone.” His fingers barely graze the gun when he feels a deep tingling working its way from the wound in his neck down to his stomach. His limbs begin to feel heavy and Sam panics. His fingers touching but not grasping his only weapon._

_“No—“._

_“Ohhh yessss, a deliciousss meal for Gnarl, a sssweet young lamb all for me gobble up.” Claw like fingers roll him over and Sam is staring into a face of a monster. A long hooked nose followed by bright yellow beady eyes. Its skin a putrid green and Sam watches in a horrid fascination as it clicks its long nails together in excitement. The creature’s eyes are roaming his body, the obvious hunger in its stare. He feels rather than sees, the buttons on his jacket and shirt being cut away as the creature mumbles to itself quietly. Sam tries to get his body to move, to twitch, to reach out and punch the damn thing but nothing responds._

_“Yesss sssweet, fresssh—Gnarl appreciates fresssh. No way to leave, no way out. Don’t cry precioussss.” Sam vaguely realizes warm tears are tracking past his ears, as he watches the thing above him bare his chest free of his clothes, the cold air causing his skin to tingle. “No way out, no one coming to ssssave you. You’re mine to have ssssweet lamb”._

_A burning pain starts just under his ribcage and extends down past his naval. He grunts in pain and the tears come faster. He’s staring at the ceiling of the cave, willing his body to cooperate. His fingers are still outstretched towards the flare, if he could just get them to grab the gun—_

_“You ssshouldn’t have come alone young lamb, ssssso alone. Did your friends abandon you here? Did they lead you here? Are you a gift for Gnarl? A tassstey—‘ Sam hears slurping sounds and turns his eyes in time to see a strip of flesh disappear in the creature’s mouth. ‘—sssweet little gift.” The creature is licking his hand of blood, its eyes closed in rapture before it dives down and Sam can feel its tongue worm its way into the wound it caused. He grunts again at the shooting pain. Sam tries to will his arm to move, forcing all thought into the simplest of action but it remains stubbornly still._

_‘Ca—Cas, please Castiel, I need you. I’m in the ice caves in North Dakota. Please Cas—I don’t---‘ His prayer is cut off as the creature, Gnarl, cuts another strip off of his body and Sam tries to tune out the noises it makes while consuming him. Gnarl looks down at Sam again, resting a clawed hand against his cheek in a mock gesture of comfort._

_“Gone, all gone. All your friendsss, all your family. Left alone with me, my sssweet little lamb. No one wants you, left you alone, now you’re mine.” Gnarl sucks and licks at Sam’s wound again, he can feel the fuzziness starting to set in at the edges of his vision and he swallows hard. He thinks about Cas and Jack, Mom—Dean. He closes his eyes and pictures them back at the bunker, warm and safe. Beers passing between them, an easy smile on Dean’s face. A new wave of tears blur his vision more at the image and he shakes his head just the tiniest bit—wait._

_Sam experimentally twitches his fingers, finding they are responding but slowly. He flicks his eyes back down at Gnarl who is busy lapping at the gushing blood on his stomach, for a moment Sam is snapped into a new awareness. The amount of blood, the large open wound, he’s slightly shocked he hasn’t passed out yet but doesn’t dwell on it. Grasping the handle of the flare gun in shaky fingers he breathes deep before throwing his strength behind his arm, he rests the gun against the creature’s head and before it can react he pulls the trigger._

_The scream that echoes around him is inhumane and Sam wishes he could cover his ears. Instead he grimaces against it and watches as the creature backs away from him, the flare causing flames to ripple against the green skin. Gnarl wails and throws himself against the walls in a panic. Sam tries to roll over, to sit up-- to do something other than just lay there but the rest of his body still isn’t responding. He manages to lay a hand over his open wound trying to stave off the blood flow. Gnarl continues to scream and he runs straight for the mouth of the cave, his demon body lurching into the growing light outside. It scraps its claws against a few boulders and Sam watches in trepidation as snow and gravel begins to fall. He regains strength enough to lean up on an elbow and shout, “NO!”_

_The cave in is quick, rocks sliding against each other and Sam’s only means of escape is quickly blocked off. He’s tried to force himself to crawl, to attempt to make it out but the fuzziness of his vision is back and he quickly succumbs to the darkness._

* * *

Sam experimentally rolls his neck and shoulders. He’s propped himself up against the caved in wall, the falling snow occasionally drifting into his current cage. A bandanna is slowing saturating with blood from his wound and he can feel his strength being sapped quickly. Sam is watching the bars on his cellphone, moving it slightly to the left, then right, trying desperately to get a signal. After a few more minutes he gives up, arm dropping heavily to his side. He lets his head fall back and the silence around him swallows his quiet sigh.

The pain in his side is a dull ache now, but he can feel the heat from the tender skin. Even if he does survive this, there will be a monster of an infection to fight off. Sam looks down at the bloody bandanna and his trembling hands. His leg is bouncing up and down in nervous energy and he knows he should control it but its generating warmth in his slowly freezing body. He shuts his eyes against his reality and can’t help but laugh at himself quietly. He knew there would always be an end at some point in his life, he didn’t expect it to be in a freaking cave in the middle of nowhere however. He always held out hope it would be in a blaze of glory, by Dean’s side. Saving the world one more time. The thought of Dean made his heart ache and Sam shifted in his seat, as if to move away from the hurtful thoughts.

When would they notice that Sam didn’t return? Would Dean think he just left? Would Mom or Jack notice? Sam thought about their bond, a mother Jack desperately needed, and a younger son for Mary to—to be a mother to. Sam briefly thought of Cas but shook his head, the angel would move on, the angel would be fine. He was no Dean. He was no one. It didn’t matter what he did, what atonement's he paid, what sacrifices he made—he was the boy with the demon blood, an abomination. Perhaps this was for the best, the only piece left from the apocalypse. The only chess piece left that could cause more harm than good. The last remaining taint from Lucifer.

Sam let his hand fall from the wound and he stared at his phone again. Still no bars of service but—he deserved one selfish thing—slowly he typed out a message, a mass text to the remaining people he still cared about. The ones that would deserve to know, he owed them that much. His fingers grew shakier as his eyes grew heavy. He was so tired, the cold wasn’t bothering him as much and all he could think about was laying down to sleep. Using the last of his Winchester stubbornness, Sam stood and pressed send on the message just before pushing the phone out of the little hole of his crypt. He didn’t know if the message would make it, didn’t allow himself to feel the guilt if it didn’t. He stumbled back, his remaining strength gone. His eyes blinked slowly, his thoughts whispers in his head. Finally his eyes closed and darkness overtook.

* * *

“Cas where did Sam say he was?”

“I—I don’t know Dean, he said Ice Caves in North Dakota but I couldn’t—there was nothing else.” Dean and Jack sat on opposite sides of the long library table, laptops open as each relentlessly searched for any signs of a case or disturbance to pinpoint Sam’s location. Mary was pacing next to them, calling each hunter she knew of in the area that could help.

“Come on Sammy—“ Dean’s eyes burned as he willed the computer in front of him to just give him the answers he needed.

“I think I got it” Jack’s voice nearly soothed Dean’s frayed nerves and he was about to stand when his phone vibrated, then Cas’s. The men looked at each other before reaching for their phones. Dean’s jaw clenched at Sam’s name and for a brief moment a wave of relief and anger swept through him.

“Guess he’s just fucking fine if he can text.” Dean nearly just leaves it, wanting to throw his phone in frustration at the worry Sam put on him. But as he glances at Cas he pauses. The angel’s face is ashen, his eyes cloudy with growing tears. Jack has stood up and goes to stand next to him, his younger face scrunched in worry and confusion. He takes a look at Cas’s phone and looks even more confused before he looks at Dean.

“What does Sam mean? Dean? What does Sam mean?” Dean looks at his phone then back at Cas. The angel doesn’t meet his gaze, instead he goes over to Jack’s computer to see what the young boy pulled up before blinking out. Dean feels a shiver of fear and wrongness in his chest as he opens the message:

** _Just leave it, this is for the best. Be Happy, don’t do something stupid. I’m sorry and I love you._ **

** _Sam_ **

Dean sits hard as Mary grabs the phone from his hand. He can feel her shake in tears next to him but at the moment he has no fucks to give. His mind has gone numb but for the thought ‘_Sammy.’_


End file.
